


James Moriarty "Visits" Sea World

by unamusedpixie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Personal Fix-It Fic for a Sad Situation, But it's not overly silly, Do people still call them crack fics?, Gen, I guess you could call it crack, Is my age showing?, Real Life Locations, Sometimes you just up and fly to Florida to free a whale, Theft, no relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unamusedpixie/pseuds/unamusedpixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim wrangles Basher and The Woman into helping him steal a certain whale.</p><p>My roommate was telling me about Tilikum's ill health, and I was very sad.  After determining that neither of us had the money to stage a "Free Willy" action, I had the thought, "Please Jim, will you fix it for me?"</p><p>And this happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	James Moriarty "Visits" Sea World

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, please, please, please, don't leave comments like, "Tilikum would die after being reintroduced into the wild without proper preparation" or "Wouldn't Florida oceans be too hot for him to be released in?" or "Tilikum had meaning in killing his trainer; he was upset."
> 
> I'm not writing this to victim-blame or anything like that. I'm aware of how smart whales are. This is just 100% a fic to soothe myself. 
> 
> I also comfort myself with the thought that one day God will hold us accountable for how we've treated creation.

_Part I_

When Basher asked him why they were wasting valuable resources on a trip to the States to free a fucking whale, Jim didn't have an answer readily available. He just shrugged. The sniper hadn't been impressed, but he was getting paid, and he got to ride first class at the side of an attractive lesbian, so this definitely wasn't the worst assignment on which he'd accompanied his boss.

When Irene Adler, known previously as "The Woman" and currently as "Regina" in a marketing firm in New Zealand, asked him why they weren't taking his private jet to the States, Jim _did_ have an answer. "The jet is for business. This is for fun." And the answer had satisfied her curiosity, because James Moriarty was truthfully a lot of fun in a very dangerous sort of way. 

When they landed in New York and the DHS asked them their reason for visiting, Jim pulled Basher and The Woman close and answered in a thick Appalachian accent, "Family reunion." The agent didn't bat an eye. 

When Basher made a move on The Woman, she elbowed him in the nose. Jim scolded the sniper for bleeding on the "adorable" Hawaiian shirt he'd just purchased. Basher called her the meanest whore he'd ever met. Irene was not insulted. 

"Shouldn't we be acting like a family?" the sniper asked. 

Jim frowned. "Are we not?" 

_Part II_

Jim's pale white chest was almost as blinding as the sun's shimmering reflection bouncing off of the pool water. Even with her sunglasses, The Woman had to shade her eyes to make out his form climbing out of the pool. The sniper tossed him a towel, not looking up from his copy of "The Jungle Book." 

"Thank you, dear." He flopped down on the chair next to Irene, wiping his face off on the towel. 

"So, why was I invited?" Irene asked. She had honestly been shocked by the invitation when it came two days ago. 

"Sherlock and John have a deadly woman, now. I wanted one too." 

Irene grinned. "That's not who I am anymore, you know." 

Jim's cold, dark eyes rolled over to meet hers. "Mary tells herself the same lie." He offered a snake-like smile. 

"Do you have a plan?" 

"Don't I always?" 

"No," Basher interjected. 

"Oh shut up," Jim snapped back. "Just because I haven't told you doesn't mean I don't have one." 

The sniper dropped his book dramatically, giving his boss a pointed look over the top of his sunglasses. "Uh-huh." 

Jim pursed his lips. "It's vacation, tiger. Lighten up. Daddy's got this." He laid back in his chair, closing his eyes, oozing confidence and power. 

"Oh my God," The Woman gasped. "You don't have a plan." 

Jim tossed his wet towel over her head. "Haven't you ever seen _Free Willy_? How hard could this be?" He smiled. 

The three were quiet for a long moment. 

"Boss?" 

"Yes?" 

"Put on some sun cream. You're going to burn." 

"Miss Adler, will you smack him for me? That does fall into your line of work." 

~ 

James Moriarty is very much like a reptile, Irene thought as she watched him sleep in the sun. Perhaps a little lazy, absorbing as much of the sun's heat as possible, saving his energy for when he needed to deliver a lethal strike. 

She hated to admit it, but she was excited about the prospect of working with the Consulting Criminal and his pet sniper. She wasn't overly fond of Florida, but she was glad to be here nonetheless. She'd missed the danger of her old life. Being the third agent in an illegal whale-rescue mission felt like coming home after a long trip. 

~ 

Basher knew that Jim knew that he knew he had orca-whale pants, and that he packed him for this trip, but they never addressed it. Jim was a weird sort. Basher just let him do as he saw fit. 

Jim probably saw Tilikum, the murderous whale of Sea World, as a sort of soul mate. Too intelligent for his own good, trapped in a space that was too small, separated from the world, possibly a little lonely. Jim never admitted it, but he _was_ lonely. On the plane, Basher had peeked over the mastermind's shoulder to find he was reading an article entitled "The Lonely Life of Tilikum." 

Jim was a weird sort. 

_Part III_

Breaking into Sea World turned out to be a non-challenge. Irene had injected the few security guards with something that knocked them out, Jim had remotely disabled all of the alarms and cameras, and Seb drove the massive truck through various shops and signs to reach the pin where Tilikum was kept. All in all, this was nothing new for any of the three. 

"Releasing him into the wild could kill him, Jim," Seb warned. His boss was currently trying to lure Tilikum into the sling, which would lift the whale out of the water and into the back of the trailer. Renting large trailers and buying ridiculous amounts of ice was apparently fairly common in Florida, because the trio had no trouble tracking down any of those resources, and no one asked any questions or raised any eyebrows. 

"He'd rather die at home than in captivity." 

Jim's pleasant, relaxed demeanor had completely vanished. He'd slipped off his overpriced shoes and knelt into the shallow end of the pool. His eyes were cold and black, his jaw set. 

Jim patted the top of the water again. The massive creature ignored him. 

"Isn't there a whistle or something?" 

"Shut up, Sebastian," Jim growled. 

There was something like hurt in Jim's eyes. _Like_ hurt, not hurt. James Moriarty didn't feel hurt. What he did feel was something tremendous and terrible, dark and endless. Beneath his polished veneer of expensive clothing and flirty antics was something feral and primitive, something that drove him onward, even though he was soulless and merciless. 

"Hello sweetheart," Jim said softly, patting the water again. 

“Here,” Irene said from behind the two of them. “Two dead fish for two dead fish.” 

Jim didn’t move. Basher collected the fish and handed them over to his boss with an irritated sigh. The Consulting Criminal clicked his tongue as if calling a horse. 

Basher tensed, afraid his boss would meet the same fate as the three others who had crossed the creature before. 

"Let's go home, yeah?" Jim's dead eyes softened when Tilikum's overwhelming bulk neared him, sending small waves crashing over the edge of the pool and onto Basher’s trainers. 

Being this close to such a massive predator terrified Basher. Tilikum was infinitely more intimidating than the tiger he’d skinned in India. Despite the numerous weapons about his person, he doubted that any of them could even moderately damage the whale. How would he protect his boss if the creature flew into a rage? 

But Jim was...completely at ease now. He held out the fish, oblivious to the awful smell or the slimy feel of it. There was something disturbingly similar about the two. Tilikum took the fish, and Jim used the opportunity to skim his palm over the rubbery surface of its rostrum. 

It was a bizarrely tranquil scene. Two forces of nature meeting in the quiet of the night, two tempers capable of sucking the life right out of any standers-by cooled in the remaining heat of the Florida sun. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Jim cooed. “It’s not fair, is it?” 

“His lungs are failing, Jim. He’s got an infection. Here they can treat it,” Irene said softly. 

The soft passive look in Jim’s eyes dissolved into white-hot fury. He got to his feet and turned to scowl at The Woman. “They don’t have a cure, you twit.” His voice was low and soft and lethal as ever, and both Irene and Basher stepped back. 

Jim took a deep breath and turned back to the whale. “You’re going to hate me, you know. I’m going to shove you into the back of a lorry for a long time. But it’ll be okay, won’t it, beautiful? Hate keeps our hearts beating, doesn’t it?” The cold words didn’t match the warmth and sincerity in his tone. 

_Part IV_

Basher drove them through highway 408, which was still lively after midnight. The moon was full and bright against the clear light-polluted sky, and Irene had the windows down to let in the heat of the night. She sat beside Basher and Jim in the small compartment in the back so that he could check their cargo. He seemed smaller now. Something had changed in Jim when Basher closed the whale inside of the trailer. His presence seemed heavy now, and his lips were pressed softly together, no witticisms or criticisms escaping from the brilliant professor. 

Irene nudged the sniper gently leading his eyes to the rearview mirror. 

Basher was clueless. “Huh? What?” 

“Hush,” she hissed and gestured for him to look at his boss in the mirror. 

Basher did and made a face, one that could’ve easily been mistaken for concern. He reached for the auxilliary cord and attached it to his phone, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. A few minutes later, a solo violin playing “Moonlight Sonata” emitted from the speakers. 

The song bled into Cortazar’s “Beethoven’s Silence,” then Yiruma’s “River Flows in You.” Jim didn’t move. 

Irene turned around to address him. “Jim, dear, are you all right?” 

Her words didn’t phase him. She looked to the sniper in askance. He shrugged. 

Ethereal sounds echoed from the trailor, making gooseflesh erupt across Irene’s arms. She shivered. Jim’s eyes locked onto the connection between the tractor-unit and the trailer. Assured they weren’t in danger of losing their cargo, he returned his gaze out the window. 

“Boss?” Basher tried. 

The Consulting Criminal looked lost as he searched for Basher’s eyes in the reflection of the mirror. 

“Everything good?” 

Jim furrowed his brows. “Orcas get their name from the Roman God Orcus. He punished evil-doers.” 

Basher clearly had no idea what to do with that information. “Okay.” 

Irene slapped his arm. “Why is that significant right now, James?” She asked softly. 

“Seems ironic given Tilly’s current predicament. But that’s what humans do, isn’t it? They try to connect arbitrary facts in a meaningful way. Try to make the universe less lonely and terrifying. But there is no reason, no unifying theme or meaningful narrative. Tilly suffered because it’s human nature to subjugate. There’s no reason he killed his trainer, not really. He was just being an animal. It wasn’t revenge, it wasn’t good or evil, it wasn’t punishment. There was no meaning. There is no meaning. And now he is punished because we look for meaning in his actions when there wasn’t any.” 

Irene sat back and watched the streetlamps pass by the window. 

“By the way, there’s a dead man in the back. A known eco-terrorist. We will be framing him for this,” Jim said. 

_Part V_

Tillikum seemed confused at first, even listless as the warm salty ocean filled the half-submerged trailer. Countless ice cubes floated out of the gate, and Tilikum slowly followed, exploring his surroundings. 

The Woman and the sniper watched from the shore as Jim’s head bobbed out of the water. 

“I’m really afraid that whale is gonna eat him.” 

“What made Tilikum special, Basher?” 

Basher shrugged. “He supposedly ripped one guy’s balls open. That’s a skill Jim admires, so…” 

Irene glared at him. 

The body of the unknown terrorist floated out shortly thereafter. Jim didn’t even flinch at the corpse. Tilikum nudged at it, but backed away. Jim was saying something, but the two ashore couldn’t hear it. Basher wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. He’d always admired his boss’s unfeelingness, and if Jim was being a touchy-feely bastard, Basher would probably have to shoot him right then. 

Tilikum swam out further, water spouting from the nostrils on his head. Jim watched him for a long time, even after he’d gone further than the night allowed him to see. Jim came ashore as The Consulting Criminal, a flirty smirk on his lips and his hair slicked back. His eyes were black and full of life. “Not bad for a dominatrix and a disgraced sniper.” He winked at them, dripping sea water from head to toe, kicking sand up into his Gieves  & Hawkes suit. 

“Er, boss? How are we getting back to...wherever?” Basher motioned towards the now-mostly submerged lorry that was being swallowed by the tide. 

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? We’re going to Disney World.” 

_Epilogue_

Tell your employer that I know what he did. -MH 

I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just a disgraced soldier living off a pension. -SM 

Tell him I am quite impressed that he also managed to end the orca breeding program. -MH 

And, if he plans to keep his reputation, he will stay away from Sherlock Holmes. -MH 

Dunno what you’re talking about, mate. You’ve got the wrong number. -SM 

And Tilikum seems to be doing well given the infection in his lungs. He was spotted off the coast of San Juan, Washington. -MH 

Basher rolled his eyes. As if Jim hadn’t been updating him every time the fucking whale was spotted.

**Author's Note:**

> The article about Tilikum being lonely can be found [here](https://theorcaproject.wordpress.com/2010/09/03/seeing-is-believing-tilikums-lonely-life-after-dawn/). 
> 
> You can read about Tilikum's health [here](http://news.nationalgeographic.com/2016/03/160310-tilikum-killer-whale-orca-death-seaworld-sick-dying/).
> 
> Also, shout out to [Leftennant](http://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/pseuds/leftennant) who posted a nifty tutorial thing about how to include links in AO3 works, which I used to include links in this "end notes" section.


End file.
